The rain beat down noisily.

The sound was repeated. His grandmother heard it also.

"What is it?" asked the grandmother, in perturbation, after a momentary pause.

"The rain," murmured the boy.

"Then, Ferruccio," said the old woman, drying her eyes, "you promise me that you will be good, that you will not make your poor grandmother weep again--"

Another faint sound interrupted her.

"But it seems to me that it is not the rain!" she exclaimed, turning pale. "Go and see!"

But she instantly added, "No; remain here!" and seized Ferruccio by the hand.

Both remained as they were, and held their breath. All they heard was the sound of the water.

Then both were seized with a shivering fit.

It seemed to both that they heard footsteps in the next room.

"Who's there?" demanded the lad, recovering his breath with an effort.

No one replied.

"Who is it?" asked Ferruccio again, chilled with terror.

But hardly had he p.r.o.nounced these words when both uttered a shriek of terror. Two men sprang into the room. One of them grasped the boy and placed one hand over his mouth; the other clutched the old woman by the throat. The first said:--

"Silence, unless you want to die!"

The second:--

"Be quiet!" and raised aloft a knife.

Both had dark cloths over their faces, with two holes for the eyes.

For a moment nothing was audible but the gasping breath of all four, the patter of the rain; the old woman emitted frequent rattles from her throat, and her eyes were starting from her head.

The man who held the boy said in his ear, "Where does your father keep his money?"

The lad replied in a thread of a voice, with chattering teeth, "Yonder--in the cupboard."

"Come with me," said the man.

And he dragged him into the closet room, holding him securely by the throat. There was a dark lantern standing on the floor.

"Where is the cupboard?" he demanded.

The suffocating boy pointed to the cupboard.

Then, in order to make sure of the boy, the man flung him on his knees in front of the cupboard, and, pressing his neck closely between his own legs, in such a way that he could throttle him if he shouted, and holding his knife in his teeth and his lantern in one hand, with the other he pulled from his pocket a pointed iron, drove it into the lock, fumbled about, broke it, threw the doors wide open, tumbled everything over in a perfect fury of haste, filled his pockets, shut the cupboard again, opened it again, made another search; then he seized the boy by the windpipe again, and pushed him to where the other man was still grasping the old woman, who was convulsed, with her head thrown back and her mouth open.

The latter asked in a low voice, "Did you find it?"

His companion replied, "I found it."

And he added, "See to the door."

The one that was holding the old woman ran to the door of the garden to see if there were any one there, and called in from the little room, in a voice that resembled a hiss, "Come!"

The one who remained behind, and who was still holding Ferruccio fast, showed his knife to the boy and the old woman, who had opened her eyes again, and said, "Not a sound, or I'll come back and cut your throat."

And he glared at the two for a moment.

At this juncture, a song sung by many voices became audible far off on the highway.

The robber turned his head hastily toward the door, and the violence of the movement caused the cloth to fall from his face.

The old woman gave vent to a shriek; "Mozzoni!"

"Accursed woman," roared the robber, on finding himself recognized, "you shall die!"

And he hurled himself, with his knife raised, against the old woman, who swooned on the spot.

The a.s.sa.s.sin dealt the blow.

But Ferruccio, with an exceedingly rapid movement, and uttering a cry of desperation, had rushed to his grandmother, and covered her body with his own. The a.s.sa.s.sin fled, stumbling against the table and overturning the light, which was extinguished.

The boy slipped slowly from above his grandmother, fell on his knees, and remained in that att.i.tude, with his arms around her body and his head upon her breast.

Several moments pa.s.sed; it was very dark; the song of the peasants gradually died away in the campagna. The old woman recovered her senses.

"Ferruccio!" she cried, in a voice that was barely intelligible, with chattering teeth.

"Grandmamma!" replied the lad.

The old woman made an effort to speak; but terror had paralyzed her tongue.

She remained silent for a while, trembling violently.

Then she succeeded in asking:--

"They are not here now?"

"No."

"They did not kill me," murmured the old woman in a stifled voice.